Despicable
by Tyhir
Summary: In this chaos, one act of revenge meant little. His parents were dead, his home burned to ashes, he had no control at all. And he never would, what had happened happened. There was no going back. Dark Shikamaru. AU.
1. Chapter 1

I don't know about you guys, but I really love dark Shikamaru and couldn't contain myself any longer and had to write a story with him :P

Warnings: Dark Shikamaru; he is one scary man in this!

Thanks to Stephfarrow94 for beta'ing or else you guys wouldn't understand a thing!

* * *

**I**

He wouldn't call their job pragmatic, or easy for that matter. They didn't do it for fun or even the money.

Choji liked to believe it was for justice, for peace, for the nation. It might have been for him, but Shikamaru cared little for labels such as patriotic or hero; he considered himself neither. Ino could put up a good act, she flashed that plastic smile when crowds came around and answered in that cherry sweet tone of hers, but Shikamaru knew that deep inside she was just like him.

It had been seven years since they had started but with each drawing of blood, Shikamaru found his thirst for blood growing. He desired one thing only; revenge. But with every year he found his contempt growing, his hatred burning fiercer and insatiable desire expanding. A faint voice at the back of his head bugged him about guilt, sanity and humanity. He isn't worried, not anymore.

The world, little by little, collapsed into chaos; forests growing old and thin, rivers fading and desert floors cracking below mountains of bones, of the question if there was anyone in this world who wasn't either mad, slaves, naive, food or a monster.

His mother used to tell him stories of a time when humanity didn't have to hide, when they were free to roam the lands as they pleased without fear of what lurked in the shadows. Back then, he didn't know what horrors laid behind the great walls around Konoha, his parents had done a decent job keeping him naive of the chaos around them. He wished they hadn't.

No one remembers a time of peace - maybe there had never been one.

Shikamaru pulled the cigarette away from his lips, puffing out the gray smoke in a swift, soft blow before he crushed the remains into the sand. It's been a while since he'd been back in Konoha, he'd say he missed the blow of fresh wind on his face and the touch of grass on his palm and how his eyes could wonder over horizons of trees that changed color with every approach to the border from green, to orange, to yellow, to brown until it reached a grotesque, putrefied, green-black color. It was a shame really, but he was glad that they'd managed to protect some portion of their land.

Ultimately, something was better than nothing.

Suna, on the other hand was the complete opposite; no trees or grass to lay eyes upon but a waste land of sand, dirt and dust. It was simple, but he liked the touch of rough sand on his fingertips, the soft cool breeze of the night. Ino would complain about the cold, and Choji about being hungry. Shikamaru had only one; the vast amount of scorpions and snakes slithering quietly through the sand. He almost got bit by one last night if Ino hadn't spotted it. He wasn't much of a snake charmer.

He looked at the cloudless sky; moon and stars scattered over the black canvas, allowing the silver light to illuminate their surroundings, granting the plain land a magical touch. However, this same light granted the little sandstorm-proof village a tenebrous, eerie feeling, and he guessed the citizens felt it too as not a soul dared venture the desolated streets at the touch of night.

Their target was hiding behind the monstrous clay border; A young man of short red hair with cold, expressionless brown eyes. With his height Shikamaru calculated him to be about nineteen years old maximum but the manner he carried himself made it seem like he was older, much older, than he appeared to be.

They were still outside the city, far enough to not be spotted by patrols but close enough to allow them to venture back and forth in short amounts of time. They just needed to find a proper location close enough yet open to escape routes if things were to take a turn for the worse. And Shikamaru always speculated the worse.

Shikamaru searched into his folder to pull out a light brownish folder, he opened it and flipped through the pages, skimming through pieces of information, maps and pictures of several of his victims and targets alike until he finally stopped at his desired destination. He unhooked the papers from their bindings and spread them out on the ground before him.

_Subject: Gaara of the Waterfall_

_Classification: S-rank Demon_

_Abilities: Control sand how he desires. The sand on itself has an awareness of its own, it will react defensively without the user's consent and create a shield around him and if touched it will automatically attach itself onto the victim and continue wrapping around the victim's body until said body's bones are crushed to smithereens, leading to a slow, painful death._

Shikamaru makes a face; that was hardly helpful. He retorts to looking at the photos, all taken through several stages of its life. Some were blurry, others were badly framed, others showed the redhead alone with eyes glaring threateningly and others he would be with three other people; two men with attires and make-up over their features and a woman with blond hair split into four pony tails.

Minions? Bodyguards? Was his first estimate at the manner they winged each side of him like a pair of lionesses over a cub. No. Shikamaru scratched his chin. _They were young, far too young._ Normally if demons took on bodyguards they would be people they trusted, someone close to them. Caretakers from their child-days or possessed humans, the latter seemed likely. Though if a demon had chosen children to be its guardians then their abilities must be top-notch.

_Coward, using our own to protect his skin_.

With further examination he realized that the man and woman were closer in age to the redhead than the tall, broad man. Flipping through each picture he began seeing the certain likeness between the three, they all had defining characteristics and different hair color but he saw it; the shape of their eyes, the chiselled chins, the high cheekbones, the curve of their noses...

_Shit._

Shikamaru felt his jaw clench at the realization.

_Siblings._

He runs a hand over the back of his head and groaned. It was odd for demons to trust their own kind - normally they'd be to wound up in the web of deceit, jealousy and betrayal that they would never consider working side by side. Shikamaru was glad for that; he knew the day the demon clans actually cooperated with each other it would be the beginning of their end, for good.

For once he appreciated the obnoxious pride of their kind, arrogance was just a step away from stupidity.

"Hey." Called Ino, making Shikamaru jerk away from his line of thought. She sat beside him, eyes stuck on the information Shikamaru had scattered before him. If she was awake that could only mean his shift was over. "What did you find?"

"It has siblings."

Ino frowned, taking the pictures closer to her area, giving her better perception. "Are you sure?"

"It's very likely. Though, I don't know if the other two are demons or not. If they are, this could get troublesome..."

"Not like that has stopped us before." Ino answered cheekily.

"No, but it certainly does complicate things." The tingling smell of smoke teased him and he found himself yearning another one. His hand headed to his jacket's pocket to pull out a new cigarette only to find that the spot was empty. He looked at Ino instantly and found the blonde was scowling at him. He rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.

"You said you were smoking less." She scolded.

"I am." Shikamaru answered plainly and Ino was clearly annoyed. Shikamaru knew she was just concerned for his health, but boy had just wanted a smoke. Had Ino been watching him since his patrol started? She must have or she wouldn't be complaining about his smoking habits. Nonetheless, she looked hell-bent on not giving his pack back thus he resigned.

"Do you know how much damage this does your body?" She asked rhetorically. "It will kill you."

"Yeah, if _they_ don't kill me first." Shikamaru answered sardonically. He would eventually run out of luck or he'd just find a foe too strong for him to handle, the possibilities were endless and most of them calculated him an early death-not like he was surprised. It wasn't his preference, if it'd be up to him his life would be completely different; he'd be a lazy young man who'd have a modest job, a humble wife and kids to laugh with, but beggars can't be choosers. Life isn't fair, never was and never will be. "Seriously Ino, dying from smoking is the least of my worries."

"Don't say that." She mumbled lowly. "You shouldn't be so cynical."

"One of us has to be." He felt the heavy weight of drowsiness crushing him, his eye-lids fluttered heavily.

"Tsk, what a joke." She snapped bitterly.

"Isn't this all?"

"If only."

Ino wrapped her hands around her knees and pulled them close to her chest, her body shivering lightly. While Nararecollected the pictures and papers, he tucked them into one pile and placed them inside the folder before he pushed them into the bag again. Something smooth and cold meet his finger tips and his fingers wrapped around the object and pulled it out with curiosity. The moonlight bounced off the metallic surface, followed closely by Shikamaru's fingers that lightly trailed the patterned lines carved in the center of his head-band.

"You can go back to sleep, I'll take your watch." He informed.

"You need your sleep." Ino countered, resting her cheek on her forearm to look at Shikamaru through long eyelashes, with each breath a little white cloud formed before her pink lips before it disappeared into the air. His eyes traveled over Ino's features; she might be in her late teenager years but Shikamaru could already tell that Ino would grow to be an extremely beautiful woman... and one day she'd be a caring, loving mother. A pit formed in his stomach; would they even live long enough for that?

"Nah, besides _you_ look awfully tired."

"No, I'm not." Ino countered sharply. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately, Shika? You look awful."

Shikamaru's half-lidded eyes fell on the reflection bellow him. He could hardly recognize himself, for good reason, the man in the mirror wasn't him but his father; Shikaku, a man worn down with endless war and battles, scarred by blades and claws, and wisdom-heavy, tired eyes only the elderly held.

"Thanks." He answered aloofly. He didn't need sleep, as long as he had his injections he would be fine. He_ needed_ to be awake.

"Shika..."

"I said I was fine. As I said, you worry too much." Shikamaru answered and playfully nudged Ino in the ribs. She scoffed in disbelief, her fingers tickling the underside of his arm causing him to faintly laugh.

There was a pause, allowing them to relinquish in the utter, dull silence of the dessert's isolation.

"Do you still have nightmares?"

He did, every time he dared close his eyes he relieved through the same nightmare like a never ending, torturing cycle. The same faces, the same events, the same horrors, and no matter how many times he'd walked the path he couldn't control his decisions, his body would continue following this impending doom to wake up with his heart beating up against his throat, body covered in sweat and body shaking violently.

The soft whisper of the wind grew to become a faint howl, the remnants of dozens of citizens who had perished at the downfall of the sun in the black fires of death. Shikamaru felt the hairs on the nape of his neck tickle.

He tensed when he felt Ino's hand rest on his wrist, she felt warm against his skin and he felt a shudder course through his entire body. He didn't like it when Ino touched him, when anyone touched him, Ino was the complete opposite, maybe it was because she was a girl and had that feminine instinct to _feel, touch_, that necessity to communicate beyond words or maybe she just needed to reassure herself that things were actually there that Shikamaru wasn't another hallucination.

He traveled his way up her arm until they meet her bright, blue sky eyes now turning a dark, ocean blue. He felt his mouth dry up and he licked his lips.

"How much do you remember?" He asked lowly.

Shikamaru didn't know how much Ino actually remembered of that night, they avoided the subject as much as possible, but sometimes the conversation always led them to it, most of the time they ended it as soon as if begun but tonight Shikamaru wanted to know, to delve deeper into the events of that nightmarish night. Ino's grip tightened on his wrist and lips pursed into a straight line.

"Enough." Ino whispered, her eyes fluttered to the ground and she bit her lip. An awkward silence rose between them and Shikamaru wished his curiosity hadn't taken the best out of him, and their proximity wasn't making this any better. He was about to move when Ino spoke, her hand rising to grab his sweater timidly. "Do...Do you ever think how it would been like? With... you know..."

Shikamaru's eyes dropped and then trailed off into the distance. "I doubt it would've have been any different."

He hadn't meant to sound harsh but when had the truth been otherwise?

Ino had moved closer to him until he felt her head against his shoulder. Her proximity could only mean one thing; she wanted comfort. A lot of things might be said about Ino, whatever was true it was for her alone to know, but nobody ever thought independent, loud, rude, obnoxious Ino could have a fragile side to her, she barely showed it to anyone, even Shikamaru. Usually it was Choji, Nara couldn't say he was surprised as it was in their nature to turn to the kindest member of the Shika-Ino-Cho trio for consolation.

"I do." She whispered. "I always think about it."

Shikamaru looked at his headband then focused on his calloused palms, thumbs running over his tips. A brow grew on his face and his fingers curled into fists. "There's no point on dwelling on what can't be undone."

Ino sighed. That wasn't the answer she was hoping for, but Shikamaru wasn't willing to feed the pain of the 'What if', the past was behind them and they had to work with what they had now, as ugly as it may be.

"I guess you're right..." She mumbled bitterly, her head tilting down, nuzzling Shikamaru's shoulder until she deemed her position comfortable enough to still.

The silence of the dessert was disturbed by the faint sounds of Ino's faint snoring. Shikamaru sighed and moved his arm so it cupped Ino's shoulder and pressed her against him.

"And you weren't tired, eh?" He mussed sarcastically, a weak smile spreading over his lips. His other hand slipped over to the pouch on her knee and dipped his hand in to successfully pull out his cigars, expertly pulling a cigar to his lips before it reached the lighter, he brought it to the end of the rolled stick and flipped it until a faint flame propped out. He stopped and stared at the fire for a few moments.

The bright red became tainted and corrupted with a black core that infected it all, in moments it spread like an octopus of fire and Shikamaru released it with a clumsy jerk. The tongues of fire spread over the sand, melting it into black goo, his surroundings transformed into an ocean of black fire slowly closing in on him like a circle of predators. Shikamaru looked at his surroundings, his fear obvious by the loud pants emitting from his ajar lips. The cackling of flames echoed in his ears and from the wall of flames Shikamaru saw him, a shadow man of red eyes and mischievous grin.

Unable to look away, Shikamaru was pulled into the endless abyss of red and black, growing lost into the maze until the pitch silence was broken by an ear piercing scream. Shikamaru snapped his head to the point he believed he'd heard a woman only to find desolated sand and darkness. His chest throbbed and skin glistened with sweat. His wide open eyes scouted their area until they rested on his lighter, slumped into the sand a few feet away from him, the fire still glowing until the wind blew it off.

**OoOoO**

There was something enticing about watching a target, the way their day began and how it transitioned till its end, one would be surprised to know how much they'd learn from an individual by simply watching what they did behind the security of their home, their darkest secrets spilled out like a flowing river and it was beautiful. He'd spied on his kind and theirs both and it was sickening how alike both could be yet fascinating. It had started as an addition to their job, then grew into a hobby, but now Shikamaru had learned to label it as obsession.

He knew it was sickening, wrong in every possibly way, but maybe that's why it caught his attention. He never truly understood why women were so allured to gossip, he remembered inquiring on the matter on his younger days. His father had answered with a "Because they think it's fun". He remembered his dissatisfaction of the the answer but never had he truly realized how these mere words spoke the truth.

Other people's lives were interesting and fun because they were so different to one's own, and people love to compare. Shikamaru thought he was too lazy for that sort of interest, but here he was, hiding in the shadows, watching a fourteen year old go on and about his day without the slightest idea that he's being hunted down.

Shikamaru felt the need to blink again at the uncomfortable tingling sensation on his dry, tired eyes and held hid lids close for a moment before he had to snap them open when he felt the temptation of slumber tickle the back of his head, tempting him to give in. Shikamaru searched into his pouch and pulled out a needle full of Tramadol, with his free hand he raised his long sleeve shirt, revealing the under arm of his forearm. He removed the lid protecting the needle and meticulously pressed tit into his skin.

The effects followed up almost immediately, Shikamaru felt his limbs lose weight and his attention span drift back into gear. He had warned himself not to depend on the drug but with every sleepless night he could only get through the day with the waking injections. If he became a burden to his team, he might endanger the operation or worse, their lives.

There was always something to be weary off but they always took precautions and after so many years of doing the same thing over and over again, the three knew the strategies like the back of their hand.

One would think hunting demons was complicated, dangerous always, but if one applied enough time to study, analyze and watch each of the demon's strengths and weaknesses they could learn valuable information and soon enough patterns grew crystal clear. Many had given their lives for information, a needed sacrifice. Shikamaru always thought that from good there was bad and from bad there was good.

Though with every day the world seemed a little darker.

_Shikamaru, how's everything looking from your side? _Ino's voice sounded in his head.

_Target one is locked on, hasn't moved from previous position in the past hour. How about Choji?_

_Target number three is on the constant move with target two. Neither seem aware of our presence._

_Good, keep me informed._

_Will do. Be careful._

He had spent about two hours in the spot now, eyes glued to a tower aside from the Kazekage's tower where his target resided, even though he had limited sight from his location but he saw enough.

Gaara was rather inactive, he spent most of the time reading, his face expressionless as blue eyes darted from one side of the page to another before a dim finger flipped the page. He was also quite anti-social, disliking the company of people other than his siblings, and silent as a tomb. His hobbies varied between indoor activities such as reading, cultivating cacti and glaring off into the distance, and when he left the protection of his home he was in company of his brother, sister and their mentor.

Shikamaru noted how the streets grew abnormally silent when Gaara left the confinements of his home, the few who remained shivered to the bone at the sight. Shikamaru hadn't approached Gaara close enough to feel that infamous murdering aura but he could how it affected the civilians. Maybe the reputation of Gaara's sadism had first begun here.

The Kazekage visited Gaara constantly, but never when Gaara was alone, he'd always be in the company of his brother and sister. The tension was heavy, even from Shikamaru was standing. The elder siblings always had their hands grasping their weapons while standing protectively over their brother like lionesses protecting a cub. The animosity was bewildering, but its origin was blurred and no matter how deep the Nara dag he came back empty handed.

With every passing day Shikamaru remembered Gaara's schedule. From 3am to 7am he would sleep, have breakfast at 8am before training outside the city at 9 until 5 pm where he would have dinner at 7 pm until 9 pm before he read for the remaining hours of his day until he decided it was fit to sleep. Two weeks had gone by with the same routine. It was quite boring, tedious really, but these moments were the most valid if he wanted the mission to succeed.

He could feel the rough, spiky touch of stubble on his chin and the battered dryness of his lips and the burning of his eyes of restless nights and days of analyzing, examining, watching. But he grew desperate, he had found little to nothing on the demon's weakness, even when he battled with his siblings he was by far the strongest of them all.

As the reports had said, sand was at his disposal, not exactly the ones coming from his gourd but the complete dessert as well and he didn't even need to move a finger. Neither of his opponents could manage to get close enough to attempt close-quarter fighting. Nothing could get past the indestructible shield of sand though he noted that some of the wind-releases did manage to disable the shield momentarily.

Temari, as Choji had reviewed, was the eldest of the three, she was a woman of harsh, short temper and quick-wit; she was resourceful and agile which aided her in combat. She was a long-distance fighter, relying on her giant, iron fan to release powerful wind release attacks, despite that, she was quite capable holding her ground in taijutsu. Nonetheless, disposing of her fan was priority.

Kankuro, Ino testified, was the middle sibling, much like his sister in character, the older brother was a fierce fighter, with a wide range of attack by the use of his puppets the man could keep himself away from danger by having his puppets perform long to short-range attacks in a whim. Shikamaru concluded that destroying his puppets would leave him at a disadvantage for his taijutsu was the worst of the three siblings.

Although they were siblings, Kankuro and Gaara didn't seem to get along, if the manner Kankuro tensed when Gaara approached him and silently kept him in his line of sight at all times was any indication. But not Temari, bluntness pushed aside, she became the elder sister she had grown up to be, caring for the safety of both her brothers and trying to mend the broken chain between the two boys.

Shikamaru snickered critically; there was nothing to mend. Demons were sick creatures that needed to be eradicated from the face of the earth. He'd make sure of that, even if it costed him his life.

Clock ticked 3 pm and Shikamaru made his move. Suna buildings were thick and rusty, telling stories of several who'd lived and passed within the walls and been passed down to a newer, younger generation. But this building in particular reminded more of a prison than a home, molded recently to appear more so a cage. And Shikamaru wondered, were they to keep Gaara inside or keep people outside?

He checked the time again, not even five minutes had passed but Shikamaru felt hours had clocked by, his eyes constantly wandered around him. He scolded himself about his paranoia, Ino was out there keeping watch, if anything went wrong, she'd let him know at once. He wandered deeper into the demon's den, beads of sweat rolling down the side of his forehead, either for the heat or anxiety he didn't know. The home was larger than he had calculated it to be, the room was divided into six rooms, four bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room mingled with the kitchen.

It was plain, a few pictures hanging on the walls and enough furniture to please the necessities of the inhabitants. Kankuro's room was disorganized, clothing and rolls spread all over the bed, floor and desk with a few pictures of women on the walls and objects in the far corner that had a mantle covering them. He peered through to see the unfinished puppets staring back at him. He retreated and examined the papers scattered, scrolls of puppet mastering and letters directed to 'Chiyo' requesting her mentor-ship, his constant pushing on the matter revealed Kankuro a stubborn character.

He moved on to the next room, it was mostly empty, clean and organized, though by the untouched appearance of objects it seemed as if this room had been empty for several years now. The king-size bed hinted this room belonged to the siblings parents, oddly enough Shikamaru hadn't spotted more than three people live here. He took a few of the frames and examined the pictures of four individuals; two women and two men, the girl resembling the woman while the boy carried himself in the same arrogant manner as the father.

A family picture - a family picture without Gaara. Telling by the young appearances of Temari and Kankuro he estimated this was taken in a much happier, younger time long before Gaara's birth.

He felt something in his heart tighten and found his fingers tracing patterns over the characters. The four members disappeared and got replaced by three members slowly, their hair turning dark brown and blue eyes sinking till Shikamaru meet eyes much like his own. Yoshino stood between the two males, a wide smile on her face while the two males on either side of her brooded and glared at the camera with a less than pleased expressions. He grinned to himself and the soft echo of their laughter ringed in the room.

It quickly died down and Shikamaru moved on to the following room, Shikamaru immediately recognized it as Gaara's. As expected from Gaara's profile, his room was rather plain, there were no pictures, nothing that gave a hint of what he liked, besides the three cacti in the room. He took the books he'd spotted the redhead read and flipped through the stories, finding himself questioning the book's contents, they were not something he had expected Gaara to read. They were too...gleeful. Stories that varied in character but ultimately followed the same pattern from lost children to family reunions to happy endings.

It didn't make sense.

Shikamaru shook his head and kept on searching the room for something, anything that gave him further clues on how to bring the sand demon down. But there was nothing, absolutely nothing. The urge for another smoke itched him and his fingers twitched with the urge to dip into his pocket and succumb to the need, but Shikamaru knew better, especially at such a delicate situation. He needed to leave this place as he'd found it.

He took several deep breaths and he felt the growing anxiety inside him cease.

He took his leave onto the last room, Temari's room, and found the woman to be a mix of both clean and unorganized; papers, books and scrolls were scattered over the bed while a few books and pencil's waited readily to be used on the neatly made desk. Schedules and notices were posted on the walls, insignificant reminders to events and national celebrations. Shikamaru leaned over the wooden desk and his eyes wandered over the ink and brush. He examined the pile of books, one by one he opened them and skimmed their contents, until he reached the last book; it was small and black like coal. His fingertips caressed over the smooth leather cover and took a steady hold of the corner and flipped it open.

The first page held bold letters reading; 'Property of Sabaku Temari'.

He took the corner of the page and flipped to the following after to find a page full of beautiful calligraphy.

'_March 29,_

_It feels weird to celebrate the birthday of the dead, to think one departed so soon when there were so many who needed him. Yes, Dad turned forty-three today, no one remembered, not even Matsuri. I went to his tomb, the one on the temple South west from Suna and found his stone next to mom's, the dust on the surface made me realize how long it'd been since anyone has visited. It made me sick. I was never close to him, neither of us were, so I didn't know what my purpose here was but I guess I did it out of respect. I know it sounds stupid, considering what the bastard put us through but all in all, he is still our father._

_Kankuro didn't want to come, he hasn't forgiven dad for a lot of things, and I didn't even bother asking Gaara. I haven't forgiven dad for a lot of things too but unlike Kankuro I understood why he did it, maybe he will soon come to realize it too, when he grows older and wiser and learns that the world is not as black and white as he likes to think but a world splattered with white, black and greys. I thought that despite his ruthlessness and tyranny he had meant good but never knew the proper way to do it. Maybe if mom had still be alive things wouldn't have taken such a sombre turn_- '

Shikamaru stopped, it was wrong to continue but his eyes couldn't stop lingering further on. He found he was intrigued, this sort of proximity to a person had something captivating about it - perhaps it was the manner it allowed him to know her thoughts, see her perspective,_understand_. He knew it was sickening, depraved how he had pushed morality aside and devoured each word, being drawn further in into the world Temari had painted.

He read through everything: from her criticism on society, to her nation, to other nations, to her brothers, to her fellow citizens, to her training, to her adventures and several lovers and nights of aloofness to the heart-breaks, the disappointments, the regrets and remorse. Shikamaru found himself laughing, agreeing and sometimes the pang of sorrow hit his chest.

His alarm vibrated and it was in that instant that he realized that he'd spent two hours reading through Temari's diary. He didn't know if to feel ashamed or proud, but he was sure of one thing; he wanted more. He piled the books together in the order he'd found them and headed to the exit, looking back one more time before he was gone without a trail.

**OoOoO**

Even if agreements had been made the battles didn't stop, the air was always thick with tension and the darkness hid the blood of those who'd been murdered in silence. Slave trade became prominent and humans were hunted down like wild animals whenever the chance was found. Most kept behind the walls of their city no matter how corrupted and twisted it had grown to be, everyone knew it was better than being outside.

Loyalist had several jobs, from smugglers, to hunters, to scouts, to assassins. They helped those in need along with gaining money by performing quiet assassinations. The Ino- Shika-Cho did a little bit of everything, but they mostly specialized in smuggling and assassination, taken on the steps of their fathers before them.

They often called them bounty hunters and freelancers but Shikamaru would call them wrong because the other two would work for anyone for money, they didn't work for just anyone. Humans only- Loyalists as they've learned to call their cult. Bounty hunters and freelancers were nothing but scum scraping off whatever remained on the table, funnily that's what had taken them as far as it had.

They hadn't been the only ones to agree on living on par with demons, there were plenty countries that had fallen to their knees and handed their kingdom in a silver platter to those creatures that yearned nothing but power. Iwa, Yuga, Taki, Suna, Kiri, Oto...the list was endless, while the villages that resisted were countable in barely a hand, excluding the nomad clans.

Call it pride or ignorance but the Loyalists were those who denied anything abnormal, anything that was not human. The only resistance against the invasion, some liked to call themselves 'humanity's last hope'. They didn't represent justice, goodness or hope, they represented the once existing freedom that had been snatched from them. They represented a brighter future for humanity.

**OoOoO**

Within the passing days their presence remained unnoticed, but with every day the group grew restless. They had a job to do, a demon to kill, but they still had no idea how they were meant to eliminate him. Ino had tried poisoning him, weakening him by slipping substances into his food and drink, but nothing, absolutely nothing seemed to take any noticeable effect.

Ino insisted she be allowed into Gaara's mind but the dangers the option posed were far too heavy for Shikamaru to not consider. He could only hope that their investigation would take them somewhere, and Temari seemed to be the only liable source of information, as vague as it was he still could connect the dots.

It was weird watching her now, to know her thoughts, her secrets, things one would only confide on a friend alone, when they were in less than friendly terms. What sort of depraved bastard was he to be luring into a person's private life, it was none of his business, but he couldn't stop, he needed to know, he wanted more.

He had never paid much attention to her, she wasn't the target, she still wasn't but he couldn't help his eyes lingering longer on her figure rather than the smaller redhead at her side. He was certain she wasn't a demon herself, nor her brother; Ino made it official soon after their arrival to Suna. Meaning that Kankuro and Temari had different parents than Gaara had.

Throughout the years humans succumbing to the temptation of demons had become a major casualty, especially women. Nonetheless, that didn't make rape infrequent amongst the encounters between demons and humans alike, even though men were victim to male and female demons alike, women were most common to fall prey and find themselves impregnated with dark-spawn. It was sickening to think that someone could use their power against the weak in such manner.

Few survived the birth giving and if they did their mind remained shattered from the torture. Sometimes the demon fathers would come back to collect the spawn, if the youngster hadn't be stone to death that is.

That didn't take his confusion away; why were the two of them protecting him? What made them so faithful? It couldn't possibly be blood, at least for Kankuro. What made Temari so devoted to his demon brother? She hadn't mentioned anything about her mother being victim of rape but she certainly suggested her mother's death being Gaara's fault.

He found himself going back to that prison of a home and reading through pages of Temari's day and thoughts. He didn't know what he was seeking for, maybe answers, but in truth he no longer knew.

_'July 21_

_I woke up at the sound of Gaara and Kankuro fighting once again, those two idiots are like oil and water, but this fight got bad. Gaara grew sombre and his eyes sparked with the desire to spill blood, like he had done with several of our enemies before. I was terrified for Kankuro's safety. That idiot, no matter how tough he believes himself, he could never stand a chance against him. Gaara is on a completely different level. I intervened just when I spotted Gaara's self-control slipping but that didn't stop his sand from lashing out at me._

_I've never been so scared in my life, the certainty of death was eminent and I believed that I would die at any moment, in just a heartbeat. The way Gaara's eyes bore down on my own with such despise made my bones shake, in that moment I remembered that Gaara is not a young boy but a demon that had the power to destroy us all in a fit of rage. Kankuro must have felt the same for his harsh words died down and soon he was by my side, trying to remove the sand and I shoved him away before he could get himself trapped in the snakes of death. I felt the sand's hold on my arm tighten painfully and Kankuro began to beg. I've never heard him beg before and it was the most horrendous sound. Then, the pain faded and the sand left my limbs and returned to the gourd._

_Gaara turned his back on us and told us to leave. I took Kankuro out, as far away from Gaara. He insisted on going to a nursery but I was more than certain that nothing was broken._

_I was upset, I didn't want to show him but my self-controlled slipped and I punched him hard enough to bruise. He didn't appreciate it, but I didn't care. I was tired of his recklessness, his arrogance, his lack of self-safety. Doesn't he know how much I worry for him? There's really nothing I can do, he's just a boy, and boys will forever be clueless._'

Gaara had killed several, not only outsiders but Suna citizens as well. He was hated within his own country as much as he was feared. Shikamaru couldn't bring himself to understand. Gaara had killed her mother, almost killed her, threatened to kill her brother and her village but she still protected him. Why? What the hell drove her to go to such extents? And why hadn't they left Suna, she is aware of their permanent location making them easy to find targets. Why?

_'August 24_

_Gaara came to talk to me, it was the first time he had approached me on his own accord with the pure intention of simply talking. Of course it didn't start that way as he just came into my room and stood there in silence, watching me read scrolls and make notes here and there until he finally decided to speak. I admit it was a bit awkward at first as Gaara has never been good with social interaction before and no one has given him the chance to practice but just the notion that he was trying to hard made me feel delighted. It gave me hope that behind that demonic, power-lust monster was my brother_.'

The concept of hope had faded for him. He didn't believe there to be a future, they were all doomed. He was almost at the end of the diary, in the most recent days.

_'November 1_

_The Kazekage returned smelling like rotten corpses. I often find myself irking with the desire to question him but I know it's not in our best interest to question him but this has gone on far too long. He asked again to take Gaara with him to wherever this accursed land is. I immediately denied it, who knows what that place could do to Gaara. I knew that man was nothing but trouble since the first day I saw him, there is just something sickly about him, no matter how sweet he may act I don't like him and he knows it, I doubt he finds me any more pleasing. His second-in command is not less any freakier than he is, I swear the two of them are fucked in the head...I can't believe dad would inherit his power , us, our city to those bastards_...

_But a job is a job and if Gaara follows him, I will too_'

He remembered reading a few newspapers on the Kazekage; a man known for his mischievous ways and filthy lies but also a man of ambition and great inventions and discoveries, earning him friends as well as enemies, including Konoha. He was amongst the most wanted list, so many hits had been tabbed on him through the months that Shikamaru could only scoff at the ridiculousness. He would laugh if not everyone who had tried to murder the Kazekage failed. Because of Gaara.

What man was powerful enough to have a demon under his wing? Shikamaru was horrified with himself at not questioning the man behind the mask. Who was the Kazekage? Shikamaru grunted and quickly searched into his bag to pull out the bingo book to flip through Suna's files once again, stopping at the title 'Kazekage'. He skimmed through the information unbelievably fast, feeling something inside him calm down. The kazekage was nothing more than a human, close friend of the previous Kazekage.

He would have said the Sand Siblings were working under the leader's arm out of patriotism but Gaara was hardly patriotic, unlike his sister and brother, the boy couldn't care less what came of his village's fate so what had been offered to him to not break into havoc? What was stopping him?

Shikamaru delved deeper into Temari's books, finding himself lost and confused at the lack of answers.

Ino's voice broke through his course of thought.

_Shikamaru!_

_Yeah? Report Ino._

_Choji's lost sight of Temari!_

_What do you mean?!_

_He just called it in, he's freaking out._

_Calm him down, she must not be far._

His eyes still glued to the book, reading the remaining words of this last entry- yesterday's- with fingers crossed.

"Didn't your mother teach you it's impolite to nose into a woman's business?"

Shikamaru's eyes went wide. "Shit."

In a blink of an eye he felt a hand grab a handful of hair and slam his forehead against the desk before his head was forced upwards while the cold metallic touch of metal greeted his exposed throat. He instinctively grabbed the arms of his attacker and tried to pull away only to receive a painful yank in his hair, soon a woman's lips approached his ear.

"Took you quite the time to show your face." Hissed a voice behind him and Shikamaru gulped, his Adam's apple bumping against the sharp blade. "You have five seconds to loosen your tongue before I slit your throat and feed you to the dogs. Who sent you?" The dagger pressed painfully against his neck and he felt the warm trickle of blood run down his skin. "One." Shikamaru kept his lips sealed. "Two." His heart drummed in his chest, and he felt her breaths quicken, the heat of each released breath tickling the shell of his ear. "Three."

Shikamaru's grinned. "Shadow possession technique... successful."

* * *

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

_Phew_, it really took me a while to write this one! I'm overall quite happy with it but you guys let me know what you think! Also, thanks to you who reviewed and liked the story: You people rock, seriously, you made me happier than... Oh I don't know, still, pretty damn jolly :D! I hope you like where this is going lol, let me know; Jashin smiles on those who review ;) !

Warnings: References to violence, gore and needles (Ugh, needles :S) and dark Shikamaru. I know I might have pushed a little bit in the OCCness with him here but in my defense I took inspiration from episode 87 in Hidan's last moments, through out 82 till 88 Shikamaru was such an emotional wreck and had nothing else in mind other than revenge and well, I just pushed that a little bit, wanted to see where that could take his character if his revenge was not acquired as soon as it did in the show.

Thanks to stephfarrow94 for beta'ing :)

Naruto doesn't belong to me.

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**II**

* * *

He felt Temari tense, her breath flaring through her nose. Her confusion obvious as he felt her struggle against his control. She was no fool, she spotted Shikamaru's coy grin and he felt her anger bubble up like an active volcano on the verge of exploding.

"What have you done?" She growled and Shikamaru moved his arm so the blade was no longer against his throat and maneuvered his empty hand to rest against his throat, forcing Temari to be at the mercy of her own weapon.

"Scream or make any sound at all and it'll go poorly for you." Hissed the Nara through his mask, his voice rusty and threatening and pressed the blade harder until a little line of red marked her throat. He knew she wasn't going to scream, she was too prideful for that but reminding her of her powerlessness was amusing. Temari bit her insults back and ground her white teeth hard against one another.

Shikamaru turned, forcing Temari to give him her back, and kept on walking until she was against the wall. Then with a sweep of his hand the kunai went flying to the other side of the room, its sharp edge nailing the wall.

"Bastard, just you wait until I get my hands on you! I'm going to destroy you!" She hissed, Shikamaru cocked his head to the side with twisted amusement; it was sick, but he could feel it, the thrill expanding through his veins like a shot of adrenaline.

"You are in no position to be threatening me." Shikamaru noted in the most matter of fact way. His shadow possession had grown powerful over the years, but even in its might, he had a limit and knew better than to overdo himself. Especially now that one of the pawns had made an unexpected move. "Troublesome woman."

_Shikamaru? Are you okay? I lost you for a moment there. _

_All is good Ino. I found Temari._

_Oh good..._

_I don't think its time to be relieved, she attacked me. _

_Shit..._

_Yeah. _

_Did she tell anyone?_

_I don't know._

_Where are you?_

"What's the matter? Too much of a coward to fight a woman?!" Goaded Temari with despise. "Depraved bastard! Sickening coward!"

"We can do this the hard way or How long have you known?" He whispered dangerously low. "How long?!"

Shikamaru released his possession on her and resorted to having his shadows shove her back into the wall next to the door.

He followed right after, a shadow webs spreading over her body and holding her back against the wall. She growled and spat his direction, the Nara grimaced in distaste as he wiped it away, feeling his self-control tug at the sight of her proud grin and by the looks of it, she had expected him to hit her.

Hitting a woman was wrong in his eyes, even if it was the enemy. How is it he always ends up in situations like these with women? He would have chuckled at the sudden strife of morality but his situation was less than proper for such whims.

"You think you scare me? I've dealt with stronger bastards than the likes of you."

"Good on you." Shikamaru bit back. He knew she wasn't bluffing, he was more than certain she'd be a formidable opponent but he wasn't here to give an ego boost. "Now, I asked you a question woman."

"You might have to repeat it." She mumbled coyly.

"Maybe this will help you." Snarled Shikamaru and pulled from his pouch a short needle, immediately forcing her face to turn to the side and expose her neck and jabbed the needle in while his free hand muffled her groans.

"Bastard." She hissed.

"Does anyone know about us?"

"No."

"How long did you know about me?"

"Until I got home earlier this morning."

"Then why did you come back?"

"I forgot my fan." She mumbled meekly and if Shikamaru didn't know best, utterly embarrassed.

To confirm her statement, the Sand nin's eyes shifted to the right and Shikamaru followed her path to rest on the subject. He couldn't help containing the relieved sigh. _Safe_.

_Ino, we are safe. I need you here, do you think you can make it over in less than five minutes?_

_Less than five minutes? Who do you think I am?!_

_Just hurry._

Shikamaru cheeked his pouch and made sure he had his

"Tell me Gaara's weakness." Shikamaru asked, taking a step towards her, unaware how sinister the faint rays of light made his angular face look. Temari's lips trembled, eyes screwing shut while her body fought against the bonds. Shikamaru strengthened his hold, pinning her arms to each side of her head, watching her fingernails dig into her palms painfully. He walked up to her, feeling something in his chest irk. He immobilized her head but still, she closed her eyes and grunt of pain left her.

An uncharacteristic growl left his lips as he walked up to her and grabbed her chin, the contact of her hot skin sending shivers up his spine, and his touch shocking her reflected on the little gasp that left her lips and eyes shot wide open.

"Don't make me ask you again."

He felt Temari shake, her eyes sparkling with renewed fight. "Screw you."

He had to give it to her, she was putting a hell of a fight. "_Everything_ has a weakness."

"Not him. He doesn't have a weakness, he's well over your level."

She was lying, he could tell. It was impressive really, no one had ever managed to fight the potion.

Shikamaru unconsciously pressed closer to Temari. He looked back at Temari and became suddenly conscious of their proximity. They were close, too close. Her body felt warm against his, her smaller frame feeling delicate under his grasp yet the edge of danger was there, in her green eyes glinting threateningly at him with promises of excruciating pain.

Those eyes were directed to him, instead to that-that _monster of a brother_!

"What the hell binds you to that monster?" Sneered Shikamaru, antipathy eminent in his eyes. He just couldn't understand, she should _hate them_ as much as_ he_ hated them. He was a danger to everyone around him. Why? _Why!_? "He killed your parents, massacred your childhood, puts your village at stake, threatens your health and your brother's life! Are you inconsiderate or just _daft_?" He growled the last word in utter frustration.

He felt his breath bounce on her face, heart drumming in his chest and body shivering. His hold had lowered to her neck, in his rage fit he'd pulled her by the throat away from the wall and closer to him, she was still bound to the wall, at his mercy. The fire of hate slowly died down in her eyes and was replaced with something beautiful. A crack through that violent mask.

And as fast as it was there, it was gone.

"His name is Gaara, and between you and him, you're the monster. Behind that skin you are nothing but a rotten, heartless shit-glob, a fungus growing with putrefied hate. "

Shikamaru's hold unconsciously tightened. "You don't know _anything_ about me."

"I have seen your kind, young and self-assured; something goes wrong in your perfect little world and you blame the first thing on everyone's hate list: us. You must be thinking you have it all figured out, that the world is white and black, that its okay to treat us like dirt because you _think_ you're_ above us,_ we deserve it, that it's justice. You don't know what justice is, you don't know what real pain feels like, you don't know what despair is. Truth is, you don't know _shit, kid_. Your type is the reason this world is such a dark place."

"My type?" He asked incredulously.

"_Humans_."

"You _are_ human. Or have you convinced yourself otherwise to fit that little speech of yours?"

Temari scowled and her body jerked violently, the surge to punch him he was sure. "Fuck off."

"How do you know what its like? To kill and steal just to survive, watch your comrades fall every night to become food and have their freedom ripped! I don't know shit, you say? Lady if it were so I wouldn't even be here. I had everything I cared for taken from me! I watched helpless men, women and children be beaten and eaten. Not a day goes by when I don't ear their cries or have their lifeless eyes stare at me whispering words, those same words 'useless, useless, useless, useless!' Not a night! But I survived, with my own two hands I pulled myself away from that shit hole and I let your dear demons know my wrath and spill their blood as they have done with several. If this isn't justice, you'd better _tell me_ what is."

They were close, too close. She was breathing hard, eyes wide open with an unreadable feeling. Her lips trembled slightly before they parted and she spoke.

"I was wrong about you." Her breaths quickened and her teeth ground together. For a slight second Shikamaru thought she saw his pain, she understood, she knew it. Perhaps, they had more in common than he had thought."You're bat-shit insane!"

Something inside him cracked, something in his gut tightened. Suddenly, his shoulders shook and his breath shortened. The sound of a low chuckle resonated and it gradually grew up to become a full blown cackle, he tossed his head back and laughed like he hadn't done in years.

Her comment had been nasty, crude but he thought it was funny for some reason, really.

He ceased his laughter and he was met with Temari's horror filled eyes. "You've lost your mind."

"We all have a breaking point, from the nicest of us to the worst of yours." He answered with regained composure, meeting her eyes levelly. "It was your people that started this, they made their choice while we were given none, we are forced to kill to survive while you kill to eat us, slave us. Don't question our reasons when we have plenty to go on from."

"Cry me a _fucking_ river." She answered venomously before she spat on him. Shikamaru sighed. Temari was turning out to be more than he bargained for.

The presence of a third person caught his attention, Ino around the room before the door creaked and she stepped into the room. She spotted Shikamaru and walked up to his side before she went for the Sand nin. Temari remained in silence, the only sound coming from her being her ragged breaths, her threats silent but taken into account.

"Step aside Shikamaru, give me space." She ordered, leaving no space for Nara to argue. "Keep a good hold on her, I don't want this to get further out of hand."

Shikamaru took her wrist and stopped her. "I want you to do something first Ino, go through her memories and let me see."

_I need to see._

She didn't argue about the complications of the process nor the dangers, she just stared at him with an unreadable expression on her face."Why?"

There were many reason for it, logical ones as well, but those weren't what influenced him at all, it was something else, a desire from the darkest pit of his being. Ino broke eye contact. "It will take time."

"Just do it." His voice must have an edge to it as Ino didn't question his order and reached out to the other woman.

Temari seemed to sense the foreboding atmosphere and tried to recoil but Shikamaru kept a tight hold on her. "Don't touch me, skank."

"Tch, what a charmer." Ino bit back as successfully planted her hand on Temari's forehead, silence growing in the room, allowing Shikamaru to close the bedroom door before sitting on the bed and waiting for Ino to give him the heads-up.

He watched the two women in silence; about now Ino must be tearing down Temari's walls and shackling her for them to wander through her mind freely. It was a dangerous process, if done incorrectly and with little care one could risk not only the subject's life but their sanity.

Through the process of practise, Ino discovered a new ability, one that Shikamaru would never admit to fearing. If Ino wanted, she could erase the memories, if not being careful, she could wipe out the subject's entire memory. However, if handled with meticulous calculation it could be a deadly weapon. This was the only ability Shikamaru was unable to let Ino practice on him.

If there was one thing he treasured above all, it was his memories. They held the horrors and beauties that had made him who he was today, destroying them would be like killing him.

"Ready?"

Shikamaru's fingers curled into fists. "Ready."

"Remember, don't wander too long, 'kay?" She reminded him hastily.

"You worry too much. Bring me in."

He closed his eyes and the blackness behind his lids soon pulled him into a watered, discolored world. Images and words blended into his mind until everything slowed down and Nara found himself standing in a circular room, he was standing in front of a desk where a man with a face cloth looked right back at him. The voice behind him made him realize that Temari was behind him, he shied away from their line of sight, exploring the room while the other two began conversation.

"Temari, I'm glad you could make it." The Kazekage was fully covered, a long white robe with a hood and mask covering his face to cover his talked about scars, result of his encounter with an Uchiha in his younger years. His voice sounded a bit off, distorted by the barrier of the mask, echoing through the walls in a sinister manner.

"Why did you call me," Temari's voice was slightly irritated and unnerved, grinding the last words out. "Kazekage-sama?"

In this world Temari looked sickly, skin pale and eyes colorless, the lighting of the memory blending foully with the atmosphere, making her face sharp and angular like a skeleton.

"Sharp as always I see." The Kazekage muttered with amusement, unnervingly calm. "But I think you are aware what this is about." There was the soft ruffling of papers and Shikamaru walked closer to the man to notice a gloved hand pushing a few papers to the side. It was like nothing he'd seen before, inscriptions from a time far forgotten. Small diagrams left much to imagine from, but if he'd have to guess they were plannings for a construction, by the looks of it the size was colossal.

"If this is about your project then my answer remains as before."

The elder leaned forth and propped his face between his intertwined hands. "I'm sure there's some way we can reach an argument that pleases us both."

Shikamaru spotted Temari's fingers fisting the side of her uniform. "I'm sorry but I fail to see how that will happen."

"I will guarantee his well-being."

Her calm demeanor faded, lip curling into a growl. "You_ expect_ me to believe you?"

Her voice was sharp like daggers, tearing the falsehood of etiquette.

"Ah, I see what this is about. You must understand Temari, what I did was the best course of actions, I trusted no one else to-"

She walked up tot he desk, slamming her hand on the wood and leaning forward with an accusing finger pointing at him. Her imposing form making Shikamaru take a reflexive step back. "You lied to me, you _used_ me for your dirty work!"

Unmoved by her sudden outbreak, the Kazekage leaned back against his chair, fixing his fingers together. "A necessary lie for the greater good of the village. Shinobi like yourself are hard to come by, Temari, especially kunoichi with your abilities."

_Ruthless man indeed._

"I fail to see what good come out of this."

"You may not be able to see its grandeur now, but allow it to bloom and you shall see it was worth it, everything and more." Temari's frame faltered and she retreated a few steps, body hunching meekly and chin low.

"I can't take that risk." She whispered. "If you excuse me." And she made to leave.

"Temari, I only approach you with this matter out of respect. If it had been otherwise I would have taken Gaara long ago, I have already spoken with him and he's willing to participate, he, unlike you, holds ambition for a better tomorrow." That had Temari turn right around to confront him. "Either you can agree to this and be part of it or you can sit back and wait. I will not let my creation fall apart because of your mistrust."

Her brows furrowed, her voice breaking to unleash the contained beast. "You can't do this!"

The Kazekage methodically rose from his seat, hands behind his back and strode across the room. Shikamaru took his spot and discretely skimmed through the desk. Most of the desk was blurry, her memory had certain limits he came to realize, for it was not the desk she had been focused on.

"You will find I very much can. I am leader of this country, the day and night and ruler of your lives, including Gaara's and yourself." He walked up to the blonde, their height difference becoming apparent as he looked down at her. She looked right back until her eyes feel downwards. "You can't protect him forever."

The images began to blur away, fade and crack before Shikamaru found himself plunged into another memory.

He was in the same room as before only it was brighter and decoration different, at the desk a man of short brown hair and sharp eyes was freely writing when there was a faint knock on the door and Temari came walking in, she looked younger, but her eyes were holes of a child that didn't want anything else but see the world burn.

"You're late." Called the elder man.

"I had business to attend to." She answered spitefully, the hate in her voice undeniable.

"Like bullying your brother?"

Temari's features grew ugly. "He's not my brother!"

The sudden raise of her voice made Shikamaru cringe, it said more than a thousands words, it shrieked hate in such a level it was almost revolting. _I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! _It said over and over again. Her words, her tone, her hate had pike something in him. Joy. To know that there had been a time the caring sister had despised her brother as much as he did. It was comforting in a twisted way.

The elderly sighed. "He was born from your mother's womb as Kankuro and you were."

There was a beat of silence. "So you accept him as your son?"

"Don't test me, Temari, I am not in the mood." Warned her father, his writing hand to glance at his daughter. The blonde breathed heavily and her little fists shook violently. Obviously not done having her say.

"That thing killed mom and what do you do? Nothing... Nothing! We should have killed it as soon as it showed its ugly face. He's ruined our lives! He's ruined mine! I wanted to have a normal childhood, I wanted to be normal like the other kids and I can't! Because of that monster! You-you should have stopped it, you should have killed it! It's your fault! I hate you! I hate you!"

The surroundings grew foul and weak, melting like the wax of a candle light.

"If you hadn't-if you had-mom would-mom would still be-" Her anger dissipated and was replaced with sorrow and her hands rose to her face to cover her face to hide the tears and ugly choking sobbing sounds reflected her pain. "I just want mom back...I miss her! Why did she have to go? Why!? I miss her so much..."

Shikamaru watched in silence, feeling something in his heart tear. Don't get involved, he had to keep reminding himself. The seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours, Temari didn't stop crying, her lean limbs shaking violently and promising to give away. The more he watched the more he grew confused, if Gaara was so hated then why did they not kill him. Was it because they really couldn't or was there an ulterior motif?

To him the answer was as clear as light of day, it was only up to see what the motif was exactly.

They had to move on to another memory, this one no longer held any useful information, but he didn't leave. He remained rooted to the ground, watching the pitiful display. Not pitiful, more like...heart tearing.

He could no longer stand the scrutiny of the elder and carefully made his way to the girl, he watched her small body for a moment before he hugged her. She didn't react to his touch but he liked to think that she did and soon began muttering comforting words with hand caressing her golden locks. He knew this wouldn't make a difference, but he still did it. And even if it didn't affect her, it affected him.

He had always killed or destroyed, it was all that was left for him to do, but this feeling, being some sort of comfort, made him feel useful, feel needed outside the atrocity of battlefield. He usually didn't like change but this, this he liked.

"Are you done bickering?" A cold voice asked and Shikamaru pulled back to look at the Kazekage giving the most horrendous expression. Temari stopped shaking under his grasp and became tense and hard like stone. Shikamaru looked down to her to realize she was no longer there. He looked back at the man to find that there was nothing anymore. He retreated, wearily eyeing the suffocating darkness.

Pitch darkness seemed to grow smaller and smaller until it was invading his personal space.

The echo of his name made him jump and he was no longer hanging in the abyss.

It was dark, unlike the previous room there were no windows, leading him to believe this was either a warehouse or an underground location. In moments a light lit in and revealed two children sitting on the corner of the room, at once Shikamaru identified them as Kankuro and Temari, the lyrical sound of metal clanging metal caught his attention and at once he turned around and found a colossal figure towering over him.

"Temari." Called the figure, offering his hand. His image shifted, growing distorted and surreal, his features no longer reminding the Nara of a human but a monster of slimy skin and rotten touch.

With every disgusted step back the world around him became broader, disproportional and Shikamaru quickly realized he'd shrunk, he was no longer an adult but a child.

_What the fuck._

"Come here, son." The man stepped into the light and Shikamaru felt his stomach flip. He retreated, walking past the mirages of Kankuro and Temari, their small bodies turning into smoke. The cold touch of stone made the knot in his throat grow larger. "Don't you trust me?"

His arm was forcefully grabbed and yanked violently, he spotted the reflection of metal piece on the elder's fingers and closed his eyes, he felt the needle go through his skin, only it wasn't painless like when he did it, it burned like liquid fire and coursed through his blood like a river of lava.

"Ino, get me out! Ino!" He thought he shouted but he heard nothing, he was mute-At this, this thing's mercy! He felt fear rise and drown him. "Ino!"

Then everything died, nothingness took over. The irking silence faded slowly and a voice cracked through, calling his name as if far away, Shikamaru reached over, but the light grew farther and farther away from him and no matter how fast he ran, it wasn't enough and eventually, darkness engulfed him.

* * *

Shikamaru remembered his first kill, in fact, he remember the whole chaotic night in full detail, to his dislike.

It was a deceitful night with clouded sky and silent forest that in moments was burning, victim of flames darker than coal and viler than poison. He remembers the smoke, the fire, the screams as he was pulled out his compound by his mother. He didn't know what was going on at the time, for all he cared he could go back to sleep.

That is when he saw it, red eyes shinning in the darkness like torches, the harbinger of what was to come. His mother had told him plenty about the Uchiha, their infamous sharingan and indisputable wit and agility, he somewhat admired them but now that he stood among a crowd which was focus of those two legendary eyes, he could feel nothing but convulsing fear.

He didn't know why they did it, he'd like to know someday because to this day he still wonders if the lives of his people and the Yamanaka were worth it.

Black fire spread, fast and unstoppable, those who touched it would find no escape from it and fall to their demise. He had been lucky, his mother had reacted quick and pulled him away from the danger, he felt guilty of not helping his fellow kinsmen but there was nothing they could do. His father would have been disappointing if he had seen them.

He wasn't. And when he did, Shikamaru was on his own crying his eyes out. Yoshino had died, covering him from the black fire and getting trapped in its inseparable wrath, sobbing him to run while her face contorted in pain. He refused and would have met the same fate if one of the women from his clan had dragged him off the scene, forcing him to watch his mother burn and be powerless to do anything at all.

They hid for what felt like hours, and Shikamaru heard every single horror happening in his previous home, engraving themselves into his memory.

After what felt like an eternity the screams ended and the very few that survived came out from the shadows; weak, wounded, tired and broke beyond repair, most of them didn't make it past the first week after the attack. But it was this day that Shikamaru walked through the remnants of his childhood that he found it. He had heard it, the act resembling him so of a rat scrambling down a sewage, and searched the torn home to find it with broken ribs, legs and arm, too weak to even activate its sharingan.

At spotting him its fingertips jerked slightly and its copper eyes glared at him daringly.

They whispered; _Do it, go on, make me bleed. _However there was an edge of mock there, the Uchiha didn't believe he had the guts, saw him like just a child, too scared and pitiful to do anything beyond his parent's consent. Tipical Uchiha, thinking they know better. They partially do, but not the whole picture, just the details, the bits and pieces no one bothers to look at.

Yes, he was terrified beyond belief, unknowing what course of action to follow next, but his hate burned like an active volcano.

_Ain't got the guts, kid? Of course you don't. You don't have it in you, Nara. A natural coward._

Funny, with eyes like those they miss a lot of things.

Thus, Shikamaru took him on its game.

Shikamaru grabbed the tool, the cool touch of blood making him shiver ever so slightly, not in fear but in excruciating anticipation. His arm shook in sheer excitement and his eyes couldn't waver from his prey, nothing could have caught his attention because from there on everything outside his focus had disappeared.

He relieved his mother's death, his father's death; their last moments echoing around him like a record player before they ceased. The image of their faces contorted to make screams, their skin bruised and blood splattered across the ground. He hums in thought; Those would be the most prominent memories of them and it was sad to know that out of all the good memories made only the bad ones prevailed.

Ironic really.

And this moment was going to be carved into his memory for the years to come; his first skill.

Shikamaru trailed the kunai over its features, pressing a little harder at every turn of the blade before pulling back, putting just enough pressure to cut and see blood trickle down the Uchiha bastard's pale skin. Even if he lacked the energy to attack, the bastard had the audacity to curse him.

Looking back on it now he found it hilarious and pathetic but in that moment he didn't really acknowledge the words, dazed by the acquisition of power after being powerless for so long. His ministrations could be compared to curiosity, as he ventured to where his control could reach.

Blood no longer made him sickened. Sure, red was his least favorite color still but it wasn't the color that called him, but its relationship with the subject. Soon, he grew bored of its pain and ended it with a quick stab to the heart, even of his knowledge of the human anatomy he still missed-maybe it was the exhilaration of the moment or his state of mind. It was messy but in the end it did the job.

When it died, Shikamaru felt nothing, absolutely nothing, it was as if someone had thrown a stone down an empty pit, a bottomless black hole. He felt no better than he had before. There was something he had liked; power, absolute control of the situation, of its life.

In this chaos though, one act of revenge meant little. His parents were dead, his home burned to ashes, he had no control at all. And he never would, what had happened happened.

There was no going back.

* * *

"Shikamaru? Can you hear me?"

"Choji?" He considered opening his eyes, but at the slightest hint of tiredness he gave up and just laid there.

"Oh my god, Shikamaru! You finally woke up! How are you feeling?"

_Like shit. _"I...don't know. What's happened? Where's Ino?" The soft cool breathe made him aware they weren't in Suna.

"She's talking with the Hokage. You have no idea how relieved I was-we were so worried!"

"Why are we in Konoha?" He asked, snappier than he had wanted to. "We didn't finish our mission."

"We...I...uh..." Choji mumbled hesitatingly and Shikamaru immediately knew the decision was made by no other but Ino. If he had the energy he would have growled in frustration. This is why Ino can't be in command, as soon as something goes wrong she freaks out and runs back to safety. It has been like this for her for years, one step forward and two steps back.

It's not like she could help it but man did it irritate him.

"Not again." He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face.

"She was really worried-" Began Choji but was interrupted.

"She's always worried."

"But this time it was bad, she thought you'd go into a coma."

"I was fine."

"It didn't look like that to me. Trust me Shika, I wouldn't have abandoned our mission unless it was bad." This time Shikamaru dared to gape an eyelid open, staring up at the friendly face through open fingers. "You sure you feeling okay? Everything intact in that genius head of yours?"

Shikamaru chuckled and stroked his tired lids with a loud. "What a drag... Our first failed mission."

It did upset him they had left Suna, their mission specifically but there was also another reason, a more prominent one that he wouldn't bring up in reports or conversation, his own dirty secret.

He hadn't felt the need to connect with anyone, through the years he'd began to feel empty, like a hollow pit growing larger and larger, and that feeling grew at Asuma's death, he had been the only one to really understand him, to know what he really was. He was't sure if Ino and Chouji counted for that matter, they had been together for so long that he considered them part of himself, the characteristics he lacked and lost through his growth.

They didn't know him half as well as they'd like to thing. Nonetheless, thus far they had been enough company, he couldn't see his life without them; all for one and one for all. However, ever since Suna he had been restless, the two of them were no longer enough. He wanted something, not exactly a friendship or relationship, but he certainly wanted to connect.

He liked her because she was just as mad as he was. The word like being used loosely here, he didn't like her in the like when a boy fancied a girl and brought her flowers and chocolates to be rewarded with a kiss, he liked her the same way an engineer took interest in a new piece of machinery.

To him, she was a puzzle.

And he loves puzzles.

"Heh, that's more like the old Shikamaru. This damsel in distress look doesn't fit you." Choji added with a teasing tone and Shikamaru rolled his eyes but couldn't help a small smile form.

"Smart ass." He sat up, tensing at the alien pain coursing through his body.

No, the whole world was insane, and he liked to think he was just another straw in the pile of hay.


End file.
